


Jaskier's Surprise

by magpie_fngrl



Series: The Spontaneous Fics: Short and Un-betaed [5]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:40:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22991116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magpie_fngrl/pseuds/magpie_fngrl
Summary: ‘What do you mean you’re a virgin?!’ Geralt asked with a glance at Jaskier’s nude body. ‘You’ve had dozens—hundreds—of conquests!’
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The Spontaneous Fics: Short and Un-betaed [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1203979
Comments: 38
Kudos: 550





	Jaskier's Surprise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RuArcher (Coriesocks)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coriesocks/gifts).



> Based on [this Tumblr post](https://meridelclarke.tumblr.com/post/174003758104/fanfiction-trope-mash-up) which lists a number of tropes and asks you to mash 'em up. Used a random number generator and got: **Interrupted Declaration of Love** and **Unexpected Virgin**.  
> Unbeated.  
>  **Please check[my profile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magpie_fngrl/profile) for tagging/concrit/permissions info.**

‘What do you mean you’re a virgin?!’ Geralt asked with a glance at Jaskier’s nude body. ‘You’ve had dozens— _hundreds_ —of conquests!’

Jaskier felt his cheeks heat up. ‘Hundreds of people who I made love to—’ Geralt nodded emphatically, eyes wide—‘with my _words_. I sang to them, Geralt. I spoke of love and poetry and art and… everything beautiful in life. And,’ he conceded, ‘we kissed and cuddled, but…’ He trailed off. He didn’t know why Geralt was making such a big deal out of it.

Geralt still looked shocked. You’d think Jaskier told him he was a doppler. ‘And you’ve never had _sex with another person_. You’re a _virgin_.’

Jaskier flopped back on the mattress in exasperation. Things had been going just fine, _more_ than fine, _wonderfully_ really, with Geralt finally giving in to Jaskier’s flirting, to his suggestive looks and careful innuendos. Jaskier had employed every weapon in his arsenal, dancing around the reticent man’s reluctance until he got him right where he wanted him: naked and on top of him and about to give Jaskier a thorough pounding.

And now, a tiny, trivial matter regarding something which wasn’t even a _real thing_ threatened to ruin everything.

Geralt sat back on his heels on the comfortable bed that Jaskier had made sure to check before renting the room at the inn, looking disconcerted. His hair had come loose, falling on his shoulders, and his impressive hard-on softened slowly, the sight of which broke Jaskier’s heart. That cock should be erect and proud—and inside Jaskier right about now—not wilting in front of Jaskier’s eyes.

‘Why is it a problem?’ he demanded. ‘Is it the inexperience? Is that so unattractive to you?’

Jaskier’s wounded tone shook Geralt out of his thoughts. ‘No.’ He hovered over Jaskier again, his earthy scent invading Jaskier, his own body responding hungrily. Geralt gazed into his eyes, lips pinched as if unwilling to speak. Which was nothing new. ‘I’m worried I might hurt you,’ he said in the end.

Warmth bloomed inside Jaskier’s chest, mixing with his lust and anticipation and the affection he’d been feeling for the witcher; a heady cocktail. ‘You’ll hurt me more if you stop now.’

Geralt’s face was a portrait of desire held back with iron restraint. That wouldn’t do. Jaskier sneaked his hand between their bodies and brushed his fingers along Geralt’s cock, a grunt his reward. He smirked. ‘I know you want it, Geralt.’ His voice came out raspy, pitched low, and Geralt’s golden eyes briefly shut at Jaskier’s persistent touch. Emboldened, Jaskier rose and brought his lips to Geralt’s ear. ‘I know you’ve wanted this a _long_ time.’

It was a stab in the dark, Jaskier had no _knowledge_ of such thing, although he’d guessed or possibly _hoped_ , but it worked: Geralt let out another grunt and pressed himself flush on Jaskier, kissing him fiercely. Jaskier smiled in the kiss, wrapping his legs around Geralt’s waist. Pure bliss poured out of him. Geralt held him tight in his huge arms and kissed him relentlessly, his hips now grinding against Jaskier’s, making his eyes roll back in his head from sheer pleasure.

‘’S fine,’ Geralt murmured between kisses. ‘We don’t have…’ he kissed Jaskier’s clavicle, ‘… to do _that thing_.’ He laved Jaskier’s nipple, teeth gently scraping the nub. ‘We can do… other things.’

Oh no, sir. Jaskier had bought oil specifically for this purpose. He pulled back a little and pouted. ‘But I want… _that thing_.’

‘Jaskier…’ Geralt growled.

Jaskier assumed his most stern expression; as stern as it could be when he had his legs still wrapped around Geralt’s hips, a cock that was leaking profusely, and flushed skin from head to toe. ‘Geralt, if you don’t take me the way I want you to, I’ll— _I’ll sing to you_.’

Geralt’s grunt sounded suspiciously like a snort, but he _finally_ gave in, thank the glorious Melitele. He grabbed the vial of oil and coated two of his fingers with it, then hesitated.

‘ _When a humble bard graced a ride along_ …’ Jaskier started, and Geralt shut him up with a kiss and an unceremonious shove of a finger up his arse.

Dear loving god! Jaskier squirmed on the bed at this new sensation, his whole body on fire. Sweat gathered on his skin as Geralt prepared him with his fingers, and his pulse spiked when Geralt smeared oil over his cock, now standing hard and thick and long. _Very_ long.

Jaskier’s mouth had gone dry. He wouldn’t have been able to sing to save his life. ‘I’m ready,’ he whispered, voice all hoarse, laid out on the bed as a temple sacrifice, naked and willing, oh _so_ willing, and Geralt got all intense and glaring, an expression which Jaskier had deciphered some time ago: it meant Geralt felt things and couldn’t deal with it.

So, he kissed Jaskier, fingers digging deep in Jaskier’s shoulders. He spun them around and settled on the bed, pulling Jaskier to straddle him. ‘Best do it this way.’ Geralt held Jaskier’s hips firmly and guided him on his cock, breaching Jaskier ever so slowly.

Jaskier shut his eyes, his chest heaving. It was too much. It was entirely too much: too much sensation, too much pleasure, too much… cock. He opened his eyes when he was seated, and the look Geralt wore on his face was one Jaskier would take to his grave. He looked… _reverent_.

Geralt held Jaskier’s hips tight, his cat-eye pupils blown wide, mouth soft in a silent moan. He was trembling, still holding himself back. Jaskier sat more comfortably, the burn mixing deliciously with pleasure, and he moved his hips. Geralt whimpered, so Jaskier did it again, and again, and soon he was riding Geralt as if he was Roach, his hips undulating, experimenting, finding a rhythm that had them both panting and bucking against each other, mouths sloppy on each other’s skin, hands holding tight, until Jaskier got what he’d wanted: to see Geralt lose control, to see him unravel, to see him _undone_ , and he got his wish as Geralt spun them around again, pinned Jaskier down and fucked him till he screamed.

Afterwards, they lay next to each other, having used one of Jaskier’s doublets to wipe the come off their skin. Jaskier couldn’t stop smiling. He stared at the ceiling, relaxed and sated, and glanced back to see Geralt looking at him. Jaskier gazed back, content. Happy. His pulse slowly quietened and the sweat on his skin cooled. Jaskier stroked Geralt’s face, his finger rasping against the stubble.

‘Why me?’ Geralt asked.

Jaskier interlaced his fingers with Geralt’s, who raised a surprised eyebrow at the gesture but didn’t pull his hand back. ‘Can’t you guess?’ Jaskier had never had an issue with expressing how he felt, but this was—this was _Geralt_. The man he’d loved for ages. He’d never made a secret of it. ‘You _know_ , Geralt. You know how I feel about you. And I think you—’ he swallowed. He felt more certain about his guess now. ‘I think you feel the same way.’

Geralt let out a soft snort. ‘I think you know me better than I know myself, bard. It’s true. You’re important to me, my bard, and I—’ Geralt took a deep breath.

Jaskier’s whole body trembled with anticipation. He’d wanted nothing more in his life than to hear the end of the sentence. He rose, listening intently—only the door slammed open and Ciri ambled in, saying ‘I'm back early, the market cl—Oh my gOD!’

**Author's Note:**

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> 
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